


Sawed-Off Shotgun

by rauqthetommo



Series: Crossfire [7]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Brief Mentions of Death/Murder, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Mess, Hitman AU, Homophobic Language, Intrusive Thoughts, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of Violence, OCD, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Patricia Blum Uris is also a Good Friend, Richie Tozier is a Mess, Sexual Language, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Stanley Uris is a Good Friend, Stanley is a Concerned Friend, mild homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:35:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23497642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rauqthetommo/pseuds/rauqthetommo
Summary: Following the events of Uzi:Richie and Eddie deal with the aftermath of their hit and how it's going to affect their relationship in the future.An excerpt from this work:“I didn’t ask Bill to drop you, by the way.”“I figured as much, since you stopped by.” Eddie shrugged.“I had a great time last night, Eddie.” Richie wrung his hands together as he spoke.“Yeah, well, killing people can really get the blood pumping.”“I meant the other thing,”“Mm,” Eddie hummed softly, turning to look out his window. It was light out, still morning, and he’d seen Richie less than 12 hours ago.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Crossfire [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1658356
Comments: 3
Kudos: 64





	Sawed-Off Shotgun

**Author's Note:**

> Unemployment continues to be a fucking pain in the ass, but in the meantime, my uncle is giving me some cash for helping clean out my grandparent's house so he can finally sell it. Hooray for painful memories and also hooray for fanfic. Here's another chapter of Crossfire. Enjoy.

Richie woke up to a text from Bill.  _I’ve got your money. Meet me at Hog’s in an hour and I’ll give it to you._

Richie replied with a thumbs up emoji before rolling onto his back and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. The text from Bill had come in 15 minutes earlier, which left him plenty of time to get ready and head to the café to pick up his payment. 

He hadn’t showered when he’d gotten home from the job, even though he definitely should have. Eddie had done a fine job wiping him down with wet wipes in the car, but that was no substitute for actually bathing, and he knew that, but he’d liked the idea of going to sleep with some of Eddie still on him. 

He’d chucked his cum-stained t-shirt into the hamper when he’d gotten home, but he almost wished that he’d slept in it. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get the chance to be with Eddie like that again, and he’d had such a great time that he wanted to remember that night forever. 

Well, most of that night, anyway. His stomach turned when he thought of the argument they’d had in the parking lot of The Jade. In fairness, Eddie had started the fight, just like the fight they’d had over the mark folder the week before, but Richie still felt bad. He’d said some pretty shitty things to Eddie when he was upset, and even worse things about Eddie to Stanley while he was texting him. 

Stan had sent Richie another text after he’d fallen asleep.  _I think you’re right about Eddie. You should definitely talk to Bill about it. You were Bill’s first, I don’t think he’d have any issues dumping Eddie if he’s really bothering you that much._

Richie debated for a minute what to say to Stan. How could he explain his complete 180 about working with Eddie without telling Stanley what had happened? He chewed on his lip while he debated what to say, settling on a simple, “I fucked Eddie last night after our hit,” before chucking his phone back on the bed and hopping into the shower. 

*** 

Bill was waiting for Richie at their usual table at Hog’s, coffees in hand. “How’d it go, Rich?” Bill asked as Richie sat down. 

“Fine, all good.” Richie took a sip from the coffee Bill handed him, eyeing the empty seat across from him. “Where’s Eddie?” 

Bill shrugged. “I t-t-texted him to muh-meet us here.” 

“He’s probably still sleeping.” Richie commented quietly, pushing his sunglasses back into place. 

“Mm,” Bill hummed in agreement, twisting around and pulling a thick envelope out of his bag. “For you.” Bill patted his wrist lightly as he handed it over. 

“I can take Eddie’s too,” Richie offered. “Swing by his place and drop it off.” 

Bill raised his eyebrows but didn’t comment, simply handing over Eddie’s package as well. “So, eh-eh-everything is ok buh-between you guys? No more fuh-fighting?” 

Richie thought briefly to their argument at The Jade. “No more fighting.” He agreed. 

His phone chimed softly, indicating a new text. 

_?!_ Stanley had sent, a few seconds passing before his next message came through.  _Are you serious, Rich?_

“Mikey heh-has been keeping a close eye uh-on Allen.” Bill continued. 

“Any news?” Richie looked back up to Bill as his phone chimed again. 

_Answer your fucking cellphone, Richie._ Stan sent. 

“Nothing major.” Bill shrugged dismissively. “He’s trying t-to find out who’s guh-going to be guarding him th-that night.” 

“Mm,” Richie hummed, taking a small sip from his coffee. “I’ll be sure to pass that news onto Eddie.” 

_I’m calling you._ Stan announced via text message two seconds before Richie’s phone flashed his contact picture, a photo Richie had taken of Stan laughing at some joke Patty had made when they’d had him over for dinner one night. 

_Incoming Call: Stan Uris._

“Stan?” Bill frowned, eyes flashing to Richie’s phone. “Everything ok?” 

“I’m sure he’s fine.” Richie screened the call, setting his phone face down on the table. 

“Y-you’re not going to answer?” Bill knit his eyebrows together. 

“Nah,” Richie turned his phone back over as it stopped ringing. 

_You motherfucker._ Stan sent. 

“I’ve gotta get going, Big Bill.” Richie downed the last of his coffee and stood up. “I’m gonna run Eddie’s money over to him. Call if you get any more news about the Allen job.” 

“I will,” Bill nodded, watching Richie turn and walk away. 

_Answer your fucking cellphone, dickhead._ Stanley said again, barely giving enough time for the text to come through before he was calling for a second time. 

*** 

Eddie woke up the next morning to a text from Bill.  _Meet me at Hog’s in an hour. I have your money._

By the time Eddie had read the message, it was already an hour and ten minutes old, so he showered and got dressed instead, deciding to text Bill once he was finished to set up a time to get his payment. 

He pulled on a pair of jeans and a white muscle shirt, throwing a light colored flannel on over top before typing out a message to Bill. 

A knock on his door pulled him away from the text. He frowned and locked his phone without sending it, tossing it back onto his bed. 

“Richie,” Eddie said softly, standing on his toes to look through his peephole. Richie stood on the other side of his front door, bouncing on his feet. “Hey, man.” Eddie opened his door, glancing up and down the hallway. 

“Hey,” Richie grinned at him. “I got my money from Bill and I figured I might as well bring yours by.” Richie held a fat envelope out to him. 

“Oh,” Eddie took the package, tossing it absentmindedly between his hands. “I was just going to text Bill back. I slept in a little late.” 

“It wasn’t a big deal.” Richie shrugged, still smiling. “I was over this way, anyway.” 

“Mm,” Eddie nodded. He was pretty sure Richie was acting weird and he was pretty sure he knew why. 

“Eddie, I wanted to apologize.” Richie ran his hand down the strap of his backpack. 

“Oh?” Eddie frowned as his neighbor from across the hall, an elderly asian man that often banged on his door and demanded he keep it down, stepped out into the hallway. He scowled at both Richie and Eddie, muttering something in mandarin. “Come in,” Eddie stepped aside to let Richie into his apartment, not wanting to deal with Mr. Lee and his obnoxious staring. 

“I’m sorry for what I said to you last night.” Richie said. 

“For when you called me a whore?” Eddie locked and deadbolted his front door. 

“No!” Richie said quickly, cheeks flushing. “I mean, unless you didn’t—“ 

“I’m just fucking with you.” Eddie laughed and swatted Richie’s upper arm lightly, tossing his money envelope onto his coffee table before turning to face Richie and crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Oh, right.” Richie laughed softly. “No, I meant what I said at The Jade. I shouldn’t have called you a selfish brat.” 

“I’m sorry too,” Eddie cleared his throat. “I shouldn’t have gotten so upset with you. You’re right. We do need to work together. I should be more trusting of you. Especially now that you’ve been inside of me.” 

“Eddie—“ 

“No hard feelings.” Eddie extended his hand to Richie. “Seriously, I’m over it.” 

Richie shook Eddie’s hand slowly. “I didn’t ask Bill to drop you, by the way.” 

“I figured as much, since you stopped by.” Eddie shrugged. 

“I had a great time last night, Eddie.” Richie wrung his hands together as he spoke. 

“Yeah, well, killing people can really get the blood pumping.” 

“I meant the other thing,” 

“Mm,” Eddie hummed softly, turning to look out his window. It was light out, still morning, and he’d seen Richie less than 12 hours ago. 

_Tell him to fuck off._

“Uhm,” Richie stuttered, pulling Eddie’s attention away from the window. “Bill said that Mike has been keeping up with the Allen job. He said he’d let us know if he gets any new information.” 

Eddie nodded. “For sure,” 

_He needs to leave. Now._

“Have you ever done a job like this before?” Richie cocked his head. 

“No,” Eddie exhaled heavily. “Like I said to Bill the other day, Paul Allen is big time. Bev never would have trusted me with something like this.” 

“She didn’t trust you?” 

Eddie sighed. He didn’t want to get into every detail of his complicated relationship with Beverly right now. He really just wanted Richie to go away. “Rich, I’m not trying to be rude or anything, but I’ve got some shit I’ve got to do today, so. . .” 

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Richie nodded, backing up towards the door. “No problem. I did want to ask if you wanted to come over tonight?” 

Eddie frowned, holding the door open as Richie stood in the hallway. “You want me to come over? To your place?” 

Mr. Lee said something in mandarin as he shuffled his mail in his hands. It sounded snarky. 

“Yeah, I figured we could talk some more, maybe get shit sorted out for the Allen job. How we want to handle it.” Richie was bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

_He’s nervous._

“Uh,” Eddie blinked, unsure of what to do. Richie was right, they did need to talk about the Allen job. It was a big fucking job with a big fucking payout. He didn’t want to fuck it up. But he also didn’t really want to go over to Richie’s. 

_He’s getting too close to you. Kill him._

_I can’t kill him._ Eddie frowned as Richie kept staring at him, waiting for an answer. 

“Gays,” Mr. Lee snarled, slamming his front door. 

Richie turned to glance at Mr. Lee’s front door, then back to Eddie, eyebrows raised. “I take it he doesn’t like you?” 

“He thinks I make too much noise.” Eddie shrugged. “I’ll meet you at your place tonight, Richie.” Eddie tried to smile reassuringly. 

Richie smiled back, a big stupid grin breaking open on his big stupid face as Eddie shut the door. 

*** 

“You were ready to kill him yesterday.” Stanley pointed out. 

After leaving Eddie’s, Richie decided to swing by Stan’s and talk to him in person. He’d been screening Stan’s calls and leaving his messages on read all morning, and Stanley was getting angrier and angrier with each text. 

_Answer your fucking phone, Richie._

_Richie, if you leave me on read one more time I’m going to brain you._

_Richard Wentworth Tozier, answer your goddamn cellphone._

_I’m going to kill you._

When Stanley answered the door for Richie he was red faced and angry, pulling Richie in by the shoulder and sitting him down in his living room. 

“We made up,” Richie shrugged, watching Stan pace around his living room, hands on his hips. 

“No shit.” Stan scoffed, leaning over to kiss Patty’s cheek as she handed him a cup of coffee. 

“Thanks,” Richie took the other cup from Patty’s hands. 

She smiled at him and stroked his cheek softly. “You look good, Rich. I like that shirt. Green is a good color for you.” 

“Your husband would agree if he wasn’t about to choke me to death.” Richie smiled when Patty laughed. 

“Go fuck yourself,” Stan grumbled, sipping his coffee and running his hand through his hair. 

“Such language!” Richie ticked his tongue as Patty walked out of the room. “You kiss your beautiful wife with that mouth?” 

“You’re an idiot.” Stan said in lieu of an answer. “Stop changing the subject.” He turned to face Richie, setting his mug down on the coffee table. “How and why did you have sex with Eddie when last night you said, and I’m quoting, ‘He makes me so angry I just want to push him into traffic.’” 

Richie shrugged again and set his cup down next to Stan’s. “Well, I obviously didn’t really mean it,  _Stanley_ .” 

“What. Happened.” Stan repeated. 

“He just—“ Richie threw his hands up, exasperated. “I don’t know! We fought and we were mad, but then when Eds—“ 

“ _Eds_? ” 

“—left to kill Mockis he was gone for a while and then there were three gunshots and I got scared, like I got worried that he was hurt.” 

“So when you found out he wasn’t you sucked his dick?” Stan asked, eyebrows raised. 

“Of course not,” Richie shook his head, slumping back against the couch. “I didn’t suck his dick at all.” Stanley was still frowning when Richie looked up at him, arms crossed over his chest. “Someone called the cops so we had to get out of there. And Eddie got us away fast. Like,  _really_ fast. He was driving a fucking hatchback and he managed to get us out of there and away from everything.” 

Stan took a second to process that. “A hatchback?” Richie nodded. “With wood panels and everything?” 

“Yes,” Richie nodded again. “Bright green, wood panels.” 

“Disgusting.” Stanley commented, picking up his coffee and taking a swig. “Continue.” 

Richie shrugged again, raising up his shoulders and dropping them dramatically. “Maybe it was just the adrenaline.” Richie shook his head and glanced into the dining room where Patty was setting out plates. 

“Are you staying for lunch, Richie?” She asked. 

“You’re welcome to.” Stan said. 

“No, I’ve got to get home and clean up before Eddie comes over.” 

“You’re having him over?” Stan scoffed. “Richie, I think this is a bad idea.” 

“Why?” 

“ _Why_? ” Stanley repeated. “Because this kid is bad news, Rich. All he’s done so far is fuck shit up for you. He stole your kill. He picked a fight with you in front of Bill. He tried to stab you, Richie.” 

“It was just a misunderstanding.” Richie shook his head and picked up his coffee. 

“Richie,” Stan took the mug from his hands and set it on the ground, sitting on the coffee table. “Working with him is one thing, but this—“ He waved his hands around. “—whatever this is, is something else entirely.” 

“He trusts me, Stan.” Richie insisted, even thought Eddie had told him the exact opposite the night before. “He lets me touch him. You should see the way he reacts whenever Bill tries to touch him.” Stanley was frowning when Richie looked into his eyes. “We have something here, I think. Something good.” 

“You deserve something good, Rich.” Stan said softly, reaching up to cup Richie’s cheek. He chuckled quietly when Richie leaned into his touch. “I hope you know what you’re doing.” 

*** 

Eddie wasn’t really sure how to handle the Richie situation, whatever it was. He’d never had to deal with someone again after he’d already slept with them, so this was entirely new territory to him. 

He thought about it while he counted his money from Bill, sitting cross-legged on his kitchen floor, silently counting out stack after stack of bills and dropping them into his floor safe under the sink. 

_You need to leave. Move far away and get a normal job somewhere else._

_A normal job?_

_Yeah, like at a bookstore or something. You can do that._

Eddie shook his head, locking up the safe and replacing the fake cabinet bottom. 

_Inhaler._

“I don’t need it.” His chest heaved once, twice, three times, making his eyes water. 

_You have plenty of money saved away. You can go. Wait for Beverly to call you again._

_I have no idea how long that’ll be. I don’t even know if she’s ever going to come back. I’ll need to be able to support myself._

_Bookstore._

_I can’t work in a bookstore. I’ve killed people._

_OJ Simpson has killed people. He works a normal job._

“OJ Simpson is in prison.” Eddie said out loud, annoyed. 

_Not anymore._

“OJ Simpson is not a role model!” He shook his head angrily, shoving his cleaning supplies back under the sink and slamming the cabinet door shut. 

_Inhaler._

“No,” Eddie pressed the heels of his hands over his eyes. “I just need to go talk to Richie. This is fine.” 

_Inhaler._

“I’ll talk to him and tell him that we need to keep it professional. Just two normal guys, killing people together until Beverly comes back.” 

_Inhaler._

“I don’t need it.” Eddie shook his head again, pushing himself off of the floor and smoothing his shirt out. “I don’t need it.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me anywhere! My handle for everything is @rauqthetommo! Feel free to ask me questions at all on my tumblr!


End file.
